


Before the Moment Ends

by viciouswishes



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-01
Updated: 2004-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-09 22:59:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/92515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viciouswishes/pseuds/viciouswishes





	Before the Moment Ends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [patrizia](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=patrizia).



Wesley sat in the dark. He thought they'd hit a low when Angel left. But now he felt bottom - the stitches tearing on his life; Virginia leaving like his blood. Sitting in the dark probably wasn't healthy. Neither was this robe; he'd put it on, slowly, after she left. He should have been resting. He should have been researching.

The bookshelf was brimming with novels to keep him company. But they were full of monsters too. Not vampires or demons, but monsters of the human soul.

A box sat next to the shelves on the floor. Wesley had placed photos in it of those who had left. Those who'd gone filled the box. Those he'd loved. Virginia. Angel. And Wesley, himself, as a young boy. He swallowed another pain pill.

He missed Virginia's sweet kisses. She'd packed up her things already. It wasn't like she kept much here - a toothbrush, a change of clothing, a half finished book. She had made the loss of Angel easier. Kept him from falling all the way to the bottom. But now the net was gone.

Wesley was now glad that he'd never acted on his feelings. Moments were there and passed. Eyes connecting. A look after slaying demons. A smile or a helping hand. All these moments stored in the box with the photos.

Wesley heard a sharp knock on his door. If he was quiet, perhaps the person on the other side would leave. "Wesley," Cordelia's voice echoed through the hallway. "I know you're in there."

Wesley wheeled himself to the door and moved the lock. "Come in," he said, as she opened the door.

"God, Wes," she said, hauling a bag behind her. "You sounded bad on the phone. But you look even worse." He frowned at her. She set the bag down and placed a stray chunk of hair behind her ear. "I brought dinner," she announced. "How do you feel about burritos?"

"I suppose that I could use something to eat," Wesley said. The burritos smelled good. He hoped they covered the smell of the old robe.

"Let's turn on some lights." Cordelia reached for a lamp and flicked it on. "That's better. Brooding alone is never healthy," she said. She didn't say his name, but they both knew whom she referred to. "And the robe, it's a little ripe, Wes. Where's Virginia?"

"She left," Wesley sighed; his stitches were beginning to itch.

"Big premiere and you wouldn't get out of your robe?" Cordelia said, opening the bag and handing Wesley his burrito. "I really don't blame her." Her face fell as she saw his grimace. It was more than that.

"She left," he said again. "And she's not coming back." Wesley felt deflated by the ones who had left. By those in the box.

"Oh," Cordelia whispered, looking down after taking a bite of the burrito. She swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks," he responded. Silence again filled the room. Cordelia's happiness and what seemed to be everlasting hope had died down. The food tasted plain against his tongue. They finished their meal.

"No one called after you left," she broke the silence. "So I left early." She picked up the garbage and headed toward the kitchen.

"That's okay," he assured her. Right now, the possibility of money didn't seem important. The lights were on, but he'd already killed her jovial mood. She'd leave as well. It was only a matter of time.

She came out of the kitchen, tripping over the box. "You shouldn't put this here. You can't navigate very well with this junk lying around." She seemed to have regained something. Picking up the box, she opened it.

"Cordelia, please," he said, moving to stop her. But he was too slow.

"It usually takes me longer," she said, sitting back on his couch. "To remove them from the walls and picture frames. I still have the pictures of him." She held a photo of Angel in her hand.

He wanted to stop the tears that he could see forming in her eyes. "Come," he said, "help me out of this old robe."

She wrinkled her nose. "I'm not your nurse maid," she countered, setting the box down. "However, I'm always willing to help those that even flies are repulsed by."

She followed him into the bedroom. She'd never been in there before. She'd always imagined it as some barren wasteland - a single bed, lamp, dresser, and a book or two. Wesley staying up late reading like a priest or widowed woman. It was similar, only with a gorgeously comfy double bed.

He handed her a stack of clothing Virginia had laid out for him. "She picked these out," he said. "I assume you'll approve. I've found that I don't need much help with the bottoms so I'll start there. Could you please turn around?"

"Okay, Mr. Modesty," Cordelia said, complying to Wesley's request.

With a little discomfort, he managed to prop himself up and slid off his trousers and boxers. He kept one eye steady on his movements and the other on Cordelia's back. He didn't expect her to turn around; but if he made a slight struggling noise, she might, and possibly at the most inopportune time. The boxers were the easiest to put on. A little material to tug and pull, but the trousers seemed to be proving somewhat difficult. "Cordelia," he broke down, "I'm in need of some help."

"Turning around so you can stop giving me the evil eye," she said, facing him. She waited a moment, wondering if he was going to tell her what to do. She knelt down to slip one of Wesley's legs in before he could utter a word. He was already beaten, and asking Cordelia Chase to help him with his pants only hit home his place in the universe.

"Easy," he cautioned, while lifting himself up as she pulled the pants up the rest of the way. "Thank you," he said. He then moved the robe so it fell off his shoulders. "The shirt is always the worst," he told her.

She picked the robe up with two fingers and held it as far away from her as possible. Her face scrunched up at the smell. Quickly, she tossed it into the laundry basket Wesley pointed to. He was thinner than she expected and paler. But that's what one got when working with a vampire. When one worked with a vampire. Worked is former. She held her breath as she helped him put each of his arms through.

Her hands brushed against his skin. She turned toward him, watching his face. A moment. She wasn't one to let them go by - the way he was. "Wesley," she said and placed a kiss on his lips. Their third kiss. The first clumsy and unknown, and the second, she mourned for Doyle. This was theirs - kissing the way they should, both grown-up.

Wesley pulled back. "Do you hear something?" he asked - holding still and observing.

"If you don't want to kiss me, you can tell me," Cordelia frowned. Glass shattered through the bedroom window. "Weapons?" she asked.

"In the front closet," he directed her as she ran toward the bedroom door. Wesley reached to punch the demon.

There was a loud banging on the front door. "Wesley, open up." It was Angel. Despite her trepidation, Cordelia opened the door. "Cordy," Angel said, in shock. "What are?"

"Demons," she gasped. "Bedroom. Wesley."

Angel charged through the doors. Wesley lay on the ground; the Shilosh demons had knocked him out of the chair. There were three. Angel took his sword and hacked off the first one's head. The other two let out a cry for their fallen comrade. They turned toward Angel.

Cordelia rushed in the room with a revolver. She shot one of the demons in its side before going to Wesley's aide. Pulling him to her lap, she checked his pulse. It beat strong. "Wesley," she said, as Angel cracked the neck of the last intact Shilosh.

"Is he okay?" Angel asked. Cordelia nodded, as a tear fell. Wesley's long lost person had come back in time to save the day. "Where'd you learn how to shoot?"

"Wesley. Gunn thought I should use something besides my axe after that incident with Joey," she responded, as Angel lifted a groggy Wesley to his bed.

"And he thought guns were better." Angel adjusted Wesley in what he hoped was a comfortable position.

"Gunn." She paused. "Angel, those demons are after him as well." She reached for Wesley's phone and dialed Gunn's pager.

"We'll wait for 15 minutes, then go to the hotel. You'll be safe there," Angel said. Darla was sure to be gone and not coming back.

Cordelia picked up the phone again. "Voicemail," she said, then clutched her head and slid off the side of the bed where she'd been sitting. "Vision." Flashes of Shiloshes filled her mind. They were being changed. Eyes in the back of their heads. Payment. Trap. She felt Angel's strong grip on her shoulder, steadying her. "It's the Shilosh. We saved the Sharp's daughter from being implanted by them. And now they want revenge and new bodies. That's why they came after us. Angel, you have to stop them."

The phone rang. "Hello," Cordelia answered. "Gunn, are they trailing you? Okay, we'll meet you at the hotel. Yeah, Angel's here. And no, he's not bad."

"Why does everyone always think I turned evil?" Angel muttered, as he lifted Wesley and headed toward his car. He carefully sat Wesley in the back seat as Cordelia climbed in the front. They didn't have any time to waste; the demons would be going after Gunn and possibly the Sharps. Angel flew through the streets of L.A. to the Hyperion.

Cordelia clutched the seat so she wouldn't be thrown from side to side, as the turns were too sharp. Her body jolted forward as Angel hit the brakes outside the Hyperion. _This can't be good for Wes._ Looking in the backseat, she saw him shift his arm and groan. She followed Angel into the lobby as he carried Wesley to the couches. Gunn stood there waiting.

"Whoa, English, did the demons do that?" Gunn asked. "I take it's you and me killing them." He stared at Angel. "Or are you going to go all evil on us again?" He frowned. "Because you know that I'll stake you."

"He's fine," Wesley said weakly. "Angel saved us from the Shiloshes. You need to kill the rest; they'll come after us again." He coughed as Cordelia stuck some pillows under his head. "They'll keep coming until they have us. You must go to the Sharp's."

Angel removed a large sword from the weapon's cabinet and followed Gunn out. "Be careful," Cordelia shouted after them. She turned back to Wesley. "Do you need anything?"

"I'm fine," he said, clutching her hand. "Perhaps we could find something a bit bigger than these couches to lie down on. I'll be fine if you help me."

Cordelia helped him off the couches. As they made there way up the stairs, she kept thinking that she forgot something. Wesley groaned with every step, and his weight was beginning to put a strain on her. But she wasn't going to give in. There was something good going on here.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Wesley turned and kissed her. He tasted vulnerable, like her knees, and she wasn't going to be able to hold him up much longer, especially if he kept this up. She pulled back. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

Cordelia adjusted his glasses with her free hand. "That's what I was forgetting," she smiled. She opened the first room. It was the one that Angel kept for her if she needed to spend the night or didn't have a chance to go home.

"To push my glasses up?" Wesley groaned even louder as she helped him onto the bed. One foot and then the other. That would be all it took.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "To kiss you. I didn't want to in front of Angel." She adjusted herself so she was lying next to him. "Not that I'm ashamed or will be involved in any attempt to hide this. I just think it'd be a little much for him. And Gunn..." Her face wrinkled up. "I can image he'd say something about getting some, call you English, and do that handshake thing."

"I'm sure Gunn would be a little more polite than that," Wesley defended his friend. He reached his hand to touch her hair and closed his eyes.

"I hope they get back soon. Those demons weren't the nicest creatures I've ever met." She sighed and relaxed further, but checked the corner for the small axe she kept. Her lady's axe as Gunn called it. "I wish for once we'd meet some demons who were friendly and helping at a food bank instead of viewing people as their own personal stash."

Wesley laughed. "But we would be out of a job."

"And the PTB could stop sending these visions to my head," Cordelia added. She held his hand.

"They're hurting you worse than you're letting on," Wesley said. He heard her sigh and shift her weight against his body.

"I don't have a choice, Wes." She tilted her head to look in his eyes. The pain still throbbed behind hers. The medication had begun to fade. Drugs clouded her thoughts and made her more tired than she'd like. "They didn't go away when Angel left us."

Wesley faintly frowned and kissed her. His lips brushed across her cheek. "We'll handle what's coming. Day by day. That's what we do." He sat up, and she joined him, placing her head on his chest. "That's what we do."


End file.
